


Before You Set Me Free

by FollyOfWinchester



Series: Nothing Good Will Come [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amulet Fic, Apparently there's no stopping me..., Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Deleted Scenes, Dreamwalking, Episode: s05e03 Free to Be You and Me, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Extended Scene, F/M, Fear of Discovery, Grinding, Headcanon, Impala Fic, Inexperienced Castiel, M/M, Masturbation, Missing Scene, Public Masturbation, Season/Series 05 Spoilers, Sexual Tension, Strip Tease, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Virginity, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FollyOfWinchester/pseuds/FollyOfWinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's dreams have escalated and Castiel takes another peek, which makes the rest of the trip that much more awkward. Set just before, during, and after s05e3 Free to Be You and Me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Dreams May Appear

**Author's Note:**

> Who am I? Seriously. I guess I got bit by the writing bug. Or maybe I just watched half of Season 5 on a whim and now I'm going slowly mad. Who's to say?!

Dean sits on the bed of his hotel room watching as a woman strips slowly out of a miniskirt and tight halter top. He takes a languid swig from the whisky bottle in his hand. As she undoes her bra she turns around and giggles, “Do you want me to keep it on?”

Dean smiles at her back and slurs out, “Oh yeah, but nothing else.”

She giggles again and slides her panties off while bending over. As she straightens back up she runs her fingers through the length of her hair before turning and crossing the room toward Dean. His necklace dangles from her neck and swings back and forth as she struts over. He lets her pull his t-shirt off over his head and push him down on the bed. As his head thumps onto the mattress, he reaches up and smooths his hands along her clavicles and down across her breasts, brushing the amulet of his necklace as he goes. He’s too drunk to do much more than pull her hips down toward him and bury his face in her cleavage.

After a moment of inebriated fumbling, Dean’s pants are unzipped and mostly off and she’s repositioned herself next to the bed between his legs. He pushes up onto his elbows to watch as her tongue snakes out of her bright red lips to lick and taste the tip of his cock. As soon as she sucks his full length into her mouth for the first time, his head falls back and his eyes close. He needs this. He really does. All he can feel is the wet and the warmth and the pressure as she slides up and down his shaft. He takes a deep breath and smells the alcohol on her, on him, from the bottle in his hand. This must be what Heaven is. She starts to move faster, lingering on his head and softly moaning around him. As he gets close, her moans grow louder, deeper, gruffer. He grabs the unexpectedly short hair on his companion’s head and starts thrusting up into the heat. After a few more thrusts he finally feels release, however fleeting it might be. He lifts his head back up and takes another long draught of the whisky.

“That was so damn good. I could fuck your mouth all—” He looks down at his companion to find an amused Cas staring back up at him, “—day.” 

“It was my pleasure. Your penis is generously sized for the act of coitus and your semen tastes like alcohol.”

“Whoa—”

“—shit!” Dean opens his eyes, throws the covers off the bed and immediately scans the room. _Another fucking Cas dream! What in the hell is wrong with me? That’s like, what, four? Five? Damnit!_

He flumps back down on the bed and looks over at the bottle of whisky on the bedside table next to him, then to the alarm clock displaying 3:21 AM. “I _really_ need a couple more hours if I’ve got a snowball’s chance of passing myself off as a decent FBI agent.” He pulls the covers back up to his chest and rolls onto his side. “Alright brain, no Cas. You got that? I need some fucking sleep!” He shuts his eyes obstinately. 

The Cas dreams are really starting to freak him out, although, if he’s honest with himself, anything is better than nightmares of his time in Hell or his own brother betraying him and starting the apocalypse. At least the only fucked up thing about these dreams is the sexual stuff with Cas. And they certainly could get a lot worse than making out a few times and a couple of blow jobs. He lets his mind start to wander. They’re really not so bad if he looks at it that way. He starts to drift off and—

—his previous dream picks up right where it left off, almost mocking his requests for some restful Zs. He sits stunned for a moment as Cas stands up, just as naked as the original woman and cock hanging heavily in the air between them.

“I have been wearing your necklace since you gave it to me.” 

Dean falls back onto his elbows, spilling the whisky in the process. “That’s, um—” _That’s actually...really fucking sexy. Wait. NO! What am I thinking?_

Cas holds the amulet in one hand and leans down over him, bracing the other hand beside him on the bed with their mouths inches away. Dean can feel Cas’s breath buffeting his lips as he glowers down hungrily, “If you would permit me, I am prepared to enter you now.” 

Dean’s eyes widen and he shoves Cas backward away from him. He scowls and yanks his jeans back up around his hips. “Sorry, close, but no cigar. What you’re gonna do is teleport your naked ass—” Dean’s eyes meet Cas’s and the hurt on his face is overwhelming. He’s just standing against the opposite wall, now fully clothed, looking confused and dejected and like someone just took his favorite trench coat, set it on fire, and threw it into the Grand Canyon. Dean’s anger and frustration soften a bit and he suddenly runs his gaze over the string of his necklace lying against Cas’s neck under the rest of his layers of clothing. The sight lights a fire in him that makes him sorry he zipped his pants back up. He stands and slowly crosses to Cas, who seems frozen in place, unable to decide what to do. Cas jerks away as Dean tries to slide his hand into the hair at the back of his neck. Dean frowns at the movement, “Just, let me do this.” _What am I doing? Why is his neck so damn irresistible?_

Cas reluctantly straightens back up and tilts his head to the side in that weird way that means he’s trying to work something out. This was the Cas he knew. Not the weirdly sexual and overly forward Cas from before. Just normal old Cas in his Reverend Columbo getup looking at him like a quizzical robot. Dean seizes the opportunity and grasps the hair at the back of his neck. Tilting Cas’s head a bit further exposes more of his neck and the necklace string against it. He strokes his other hand across the skin before kissing along the line of the necklace. Cas stiffens under him before relaxing into the touch.

Feeling Cas go pliant against him unleashes a tidal wave of desire in Dean. He briskly pins Cas to the wall behind them and starts biting his neck. Cas lets out a puzzled cry.

“Dean?” a pause and a ragged breath, “What do you intend to do?”

The baffled sound of Cas’s voice only fuels the flame and Dean starts grinding against him, still holding him pinned between his mouth and palms splayed out on the wall. He’s too far gone to worry about the consequences of whatever this is. “You,” he growls as he cups the front of Cas’s pants, “I’m doing—”

“—you.” Dean’s consciousness is snapped out of the dream like a mousetrap. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” He rolls over in the covers and feels moisture around his crotch. “What am I, fucking 12?!” 

~*~

Castiel materialized with rustle in a small forest clearing and fell to his knees panting. He had only meant to find the address of the hotel in which Dean was currently residing and instead discovered a dream version of himself stooping over Dean completely nude. He certainly had not intended to see all that, much less find himself in such a compromised position. When the dream version of himself had suggested penetrating Dean he had...lost his concentration and become visible. When Dean had violently shoved the dream version of himself away, that version had disappeared, presumably rejected by Dean’s dreaming mind. What was left was him frightened and confused against a wall. He could still feel the sensation left by Dean’s bites along his neck...and from Dean’s demanding hand at his groin. He tried to steady his breath and regain his composure with limited success. The encounter had been absolutely overwhelming, so much so that he had to remove himself. No one, angel, human, or otherwise, had ever attempted anything like that with him. And yet, he found himself compelled to discover what would have happened had he stayed. However terrifying, it had also been pleasant to be the object of someone’s sexual desire. Perhaps more than pleasant. Perhaps, as Dean would put it, awesome. He stayed kneeling in the clearing for several minutes contemplating and composing himself before blinking to Dean’s hotel room.

~*~


	2. Slowly Spiral From Grace

After changing out of what he’d been sleeping in for obvious reasons and cleaning up the spilled whisky that he had apparently knocked off the nightstand during his most freaky Cas dream yet, Dean sets to work on a small blood stain on the collar of his jacket. _Man, this is so messed up. Everything is so...just messed up._ He stares down at his hands dabbing at the stain. _I gotta get that necklace back from Cas. It must be freaking cursed or something!_ He ponders for a moment. _I guess I shouldn’t get so worked up. It’s just dreams. Anything can happen in dreams. But that last one...sure felt pretty real. Seeing my necklace around his neck and Cas seemed so— DAMNIT, I need to stop thinking about this!_

Dean looks up just in time to spot Cas materialize right behind him. _PERFECT! Just perfect! It’s like he planned it to be as awkward as possible! At least THAT stupid angel power is still working just fine._ “Gah! Don’t do that.”

“Hello Dean.”

Dean turns toward Cas and he’s close, too close. _As close as I was in that goddamn dream!_ Dean’s eyes flick down to his neck where the necklace sits nearly hidden under the collar of his white shirt. A few specific scraps of the dream creep into his mind and he remembers how it felt to bite into Cas’s neck and pin him against the wall and...the rest. He looks a little closer. _Are those bite marks? No. That’s fucking impossible. It’s just my imagination gone haywire. I’m imagining it. Plus he’d heal them anyway. I really have to stop thinking about this!_ He looks away. “Cas, we’ve talked about this. Personal space.”

“My apologies.” Cas’s eyes follow his in that searching way as he takes a step backward.

Maybe it was just his imagination, his really, really messed up imagination, but it kind of seemed like Cas didn’t want to move away from him. _Nah. That’s just Cas being Cas. Nothing to read into. It was a dream! I NEED TO STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS!_ “How’d you find me. I thought I was flying below the angel radar?”

“You are. Bobby told me where you were.”

Dean notices how suddenly Cas is no longer looking at him, like he was embarrassed about something, but dismisses it.

“Where’s Sam?”

Ah, he was just looking for Sam. “Me and Sam are taking separate vacations for a while.” Dean puts on his jacket. “So, did you find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back please?” _Because I really need it off your stupid neck ASAP._

“No, I haven’t found him.”

_Damnit!_

“That’s why I’m here. I need your help.”

“What? God hunt?” Dean slips into hunter mode as Cas explains and tries to focus his thoughts on whatever is NOT his dreams last night. The impressions are already kind of fading like dreams do after you wake up. Soon Dean is pretty much feeling like his usual, sarcastic self.

~*~

Castiel was not feeling like his usual self. In fact, he felt almost nothing like his usual self. He had become what he could now identify as aroused when Dean looked down at his neck to see that he was wearing the necklace. He had wanted to remain close to Dean when he normally he would have thought nothing of the request for personal space. He had even lied to Dean about contacting Bobby to avoid Dean becoming aware of his dreamwalking disaster. In an effort not to dwell on his tangled thoughts, he focused on the task at hand: obtaining Dean’s assistance to find Raphael. Until Dean made a confusing comment.

“So what? I’m Thelma and you’re Louise and we’re just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together?”

Castiel’s train of thought was derailed. Does Dean want to hold hands while searching for and subsequently interrogating Raphael? That would likely prove difficult and serve no purpose. Should he hold Dean’s hand now? Castiel searched Dean’s face for answers. Who are Thelma and Louise? He might...enjoy holding hands with Dean now. Why would he enjoy it? 

Dean had crossed behind him and returned him to the present moment, “Give me one good reason why I should do this.”

“Because you’re Michael’s vessel and no angel will dare harm you.” Because Dean was all he had left. Dean was everything, all his hopes, wishes, and desires wrapped into one. That was why he would enjoy it. 

“Oh, so I’m your bullet shield?”

“I need. Your help. Because you are the only one who’ll help me.” Castiel’s arousal at the sudden realization caused him to consider taking Dean’s hand for a moment, but he decided against it. He would have the opportunity to touch Dean as they teleported away, if Dean would only agree. “Please.”

“Alright fine. Where is he?”

Castiel’s arousal grew more demanding. “Maine. Let’s go.” He raised his hand only to have Dean pull away. He lowered his hand back to his side. This was foolish. He wasn’t in one of Dean’s fantasies. This was reality and in reality Dean was not interested in engaging in sexual activity of any kind with him. Castiel wished for the return of his connection with Heaven. Without it, he was falling prey to the weaknesses and suffering of humans. He disliked it, very much. He resigned himself to the prospect of driving to Maine. Without touching Dean.

~*~


	3. A Den of Stinkin' Evil

“Well, last night on earth. What, uh, what are your plans?” Dean jokes in his attempt to lighten the gloomy mood as they wait for their turn to die at the hands of some ninja turtle knock off. 

“I just thought I’d sit here quietly.”

Wow, lame. “Dude, come on. Anything? Hm? Booze, women?”

Cas looks nervously back at him. _Wait, what? Is he a virgin? I mean, he seemed like it in my last dream, but— GODDAMNIT why am I thinking about this? Focus!_ “You have been with a woman before? Right? Or an angel at least?” 

With eyes on the floor, Cas rubs the side of his neck like he’s completely out of his depth. _Or wait. Holy shit, he is rubbing. His neck. Right in the spot. From the dream. Does he know? Or am I crazy? Oh fuck, angels can read minds, can’t they! Is he reading my mind? Shit shit shit shit! Think about something else quick!_

 _Uh, okay. Har har, Cas is a virgin. What a loser._ “You mean to tell me you’ve never been up there doing a little cloud seeding?”

“I’ve never had occasion, okay?”

 _Wow! Man! Isn't he like a million years old or something? This is just...fucking inexcusable!_ “Alright.” Dean grabs his coat. “Let me tell you something. There are two things that I know for certain. One: Bert and Ernie are gay. Two: you are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch.”

Dean pauses for a second. Those might not have been two things he should have said one right after another. Thankfully, Cas won’t get the reference, so he’s probably safe. He wasn’t trying to compare them to Bert and Ernie. Or say he would be personally taking care of that little virginity thing for Cas. He was just. Joking around. Yeah. That’s it. Nothing else. _This is so fucking messed up!_ “Let’s go.”

~*~

What was going to happen to him here? Was Dean suggesting that they engage in sexual activities with the comment about two gay men and his virginity? There appeared to be a large number of scantily clad women, so he assumed this was not the case. Although, perhaps Dean chose the environment because he finds strip clubs appropriately comfortable for sexual situations. Castiel was anatomically equipped to participate in such situations and he was now even more curious about how it would make him feel, especially with Dean. However, the thought still alarmed him. He remained sitting absolutely petrified across the table from Dean. He should not be here.

~*~

Dean looks over at Cas. “Hey. Relax.” He says it more for his benefit than Cas’s. This was a bad idea. He’s getting really confused about fantasy and reality and real fantasy and dream reality and what in the fuck he actually wants. Cas’s making the exact face from the dream. The one after he had suddenly been fully dressed. He looks so lost, and frankly kind of adorable. And like Dean could just reach over and fist a hand in the collar of his trench coat and pull him into a kiss right here at the table. Yeah. Wait, NO! No, absolutely not! That is not what he wants to do. He wants to knock back a few with some cheap floozies and then get laid. _BY A WOMAN._

“This is a den of iniquity. I should not be here.” 

God, he’s such a freaking virgin. If he had just picked a female vessel there would be no problem. But then again, are angels even men or women? Maybe the whole female/male thing was just splitting hairs here. Did he want Cas or not? Should he believe his subconscious or his whatever the opposite of his subconscious is, his conscious...ness? Or maybe he should quit thinking about this and find Cas a woman. Yeah. That one. “Dude, you full on rebelled against Heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks.” A lovely specimen approaches in a little white number, just in time to keep him on the straight and narrow. Emphasis on the straight. “Showtime.”

~*~

Once "Chastity" led him back into a more private room and began pulling his trench coat away from his neck, Castiel knew he could not go through with it. Thousands of years without sexual intercourse would not be broken with this nameless woman he would never see after this moment. He could feel the wrongness of it. He should just tell her the truth. “I’m sorry, but I would prefer to have my first sexual encounter outside of a human dream with Dean, the man I was sitting with in the bar.”

“What?! You two are gay?! Then why did you come back here with me? Why did you come here at all?!”

“I had not yet decided against it. Then I realized that you are not special in any way and we share no emotional bond. In your defense, it would be difficult to compete with someone I pulled from the depths of Hell and for whom I rebelled against Heaven.”

“Ugh! You’re both disgusting! And you are a _total_ creep! I’m calling the bouncer!” She ran out of the room and started screaming.

“Wait. It was not my intention to upset you.” Castiel tried to follow after her.

“Get out of my face! Leave me alone! Bastard! Screw you jerk!” She lobbed something directly at his head. “I’ll kill you!” she shouted as she turned away and made a stop to shout, “Screw you, too!” at Dean as he arrived on the scene. She rushed off in a huff past him and back into the bar.

“What the hell did you do?”

Castiel simply could not explain the truth of the affair. “I don’t know. I just looked at her in the eyes and told her it wasn’t her fault her father Gene ran off. It was because he hated his job at the post office.”

“Oh no, man...”

“What?” Had Dean believed his story?

“This whole industry runs on absent fathers. It’s, it’s the natural order.” Yes. Apparently so. 

The bouncers arrived a moment later and Dean ushered him out the back door of the establishment. “We should go.” 

Once outside, Dean appeared energized by the entire debacle. He smiled, laughed, and pulled Castiel closer with an arm around his shoulder. He could not help but lean into the touch and savor it. As Dean’s face came within inches of his own, he resolved to explain to him what he had just explained to the woman inside. After their encounter with Raphael, if they were to survive it.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for all the setup! I promise there is some steamy business in the next chapter!


	4. Caught in Bitterness and Guilt

Castiel materialized by the side of the road, just out of Dean’s view through the rear view mirror. Dean had made it quite clear that he was happy being alone during their conversation in the Impala. He did not need his brother and he certainly did not need Castiel. Dean had not prayed to him to request his presence, nor had he needed any assistance. It was Castiel who had needed the assistance, from the only one left who would be willing to provide it. He could not bring himself to reveal the truth behind the events at the strip club to Dean and he felt even weaker knowing that he, himself, was so completely unfamiliar with having no one on which to rely. How could Dean be so content without Sam, his equivalent of a garrison? 

He thought bitterly on his disconnect from Heaven. Though he tried not to blame the hunter for the choices he had made himself, it was true that Dean had been his primary motivation to rebel. And now he was happy being alone, leaving Castiel with no one, no garrison, no father, and only a remote glimmer of hope through the borrowed amulet. He rolled it in his hand for a moment.

His bitterness at the injustice of it all rose to the forefront of his mind. Dean was right. He had earned some iniquity. And he was not happy being alone. The two concepts combined in his mind and he formulated a plan. After all, he knew the general mechanics of the act. He had observed Dean in the shower a few times and could draw on some of his vessel’s memories for further instruction. In a blink he had disappeared from the roadside and reappeared invisible and nude, save for Dean’s necklace, in the passenger’s side of the Impala.

Dean visibly jumped at the rustle of his wings and looked over at the place where Castiel sat, then into the backseat, unable to see anything. “Cas? You there?”

Castiel stayed still for a moment, waiting for Dean to dismiss the sound and continue driving.

“No, of course not. I told you I was fine and you left.” He turned his gaze out the driver’s side window for a moment and sighed. “You’ve got bigger fish to fry anyway. Can’t just keep joyriding around the country with a hellhound reject.” He settled into his seat and turned up the music.

Sufficiently convinced that Dean was not alert to further disturbance, Castiel put his plan into motion. It was exciting, knowing that he was about to do something immoral in a location where he could easily be discovered. He had never done this before and was mildly concerned about the possible outcomes, but not nearly enough to be deterred. As he was aware that humans did prior to this kind of act, he thought back on things that had aroused him previously. He first imagined Dean’s face as he had handed his necklace carefully over. He handled the amulet around his neck and looked over at Dean’s neutral expression on the road. What would he do if Castiel suddenly appeared in this state next to him without concealing himself? He thought further on the first dream, where Dean’s mind had showed him moaning and rubbing against Dean’s body. His fingers made an experimental pass along the curve of his head and the warmth of arousal that had been building exploded into brilliant white light in his mind. He could not keep himself from letting out a quiet moan.

Dean sat bolt upright and turned the music down. “What the hell was that?” he whispered to himself. He looked around with a furrowed brow, presumably listening for another sound. 

Castiel remained completely still, thrilled by the possibility of discovery, but fearful that he would have to stop were he revealed. Iniquity was turning out to be...awesome. 

Dean shook his head and huffed out a sigh before the passive expression returned to his face, but he did not increase the music volume. He was suspicious now. Castiel would have to stay quiet. He returned his thoughts to the dreams, this time of the way Dean had tilted his head and softly kissed along the string of the necklace. More prepared for the sensation, he stroked down his shaft and melted into his own touch. It was becoming apparent why humans did this so often. He looked over at Dean once again and thought of the way he had pinned them against the wall with the full length of their bodies in contact. How would Dean react if he were to touch him now? He moved his other hand to rest inches away from Dean’s thigh and continued slowly gliding up and down his own length. Everything felt marvelous, as though the entire world were singing around him. He thought of Dean biting into his neck and crushing a hand to his very real erection in the dream. The memory was too much for him and he increased the tempo of his strokes too quickly, which caused another moan to escape his lips, louder this time.

Dean slammed on the breaks and turned off the engine. “Who the fuck is there?! Show yourself!” He scanned the interior of the Impala wildly searching for the source of the sound, but there was no turning back for Castiel. He was too far gone and grabbed Dean’s upper thigh as he came for the first time in his somewhat lengthy existence.

And lost concentration on maintaining his invisibility.

And caused the courtesy light to flicker.

Dean stared openmouthed at him for a fraction of a second before he could fly away. In his haste to escape, he reappeared a foot off the ground still nude and covered in his own semen and fell into an uncomfortable heap in a nearby thicket.

~*~

Dean still can’t process what just happened. He blinks and opens and closes his mouth a few times before his brain starts actually doing anything again. Something had definitely grabbed his leg and he would swear that, for a fraction of a second, he saw Cas, in his birthday suit, wearing his necklace, with a hand on his own dick, covered in jizz. In the flickering light he couldn’t be sure, but...

“...What. In the HELL. Did I. Just see? Damn that FREAKING CURSED NECKLACE!”

~*~


End file.
